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%.^^ y^' \/' •^'•' %/ 



^balassa 



and 



©tber poems 



JBlB 



B&rian IKIlortblnflton Smitb 




lpblIa^elpbia 

{porter Si Coates "'^^•Ql 

1893 




tjLiQ^%^ 






Copyright, 1893. 



fln flDemoriam* 



WHAT ! for so short, so very short a space 
Hast thou then stayed to cheer, 
Thou dearest friend and brother poet-soul ed! 
Thou, through whose thought the heaven-anthem 

rolled 
In ceaseless music breaking on thine ear. 

None can replace 
Thee, O beloved ! holding with such care, 

Within thy faithful hand, 
Thy great Art's Treasure. Hear me !— let me speak 
And tell the listening world that brave and fair 
Thou gavest of thy best, and though they seek, 
Thy like lives not in all the shining land. 



•ffn /iRemodam. 



O spirit ! eager, brave ! 
Thou radiant being, prisoned in a shell 
So feebly fashioned ! Not our love could save 

Thee, O beloved ! 

Nor bid thee longer dwell 

Within earth's citadel. 
Where such as thovi, unknowing, are disproved. 

The happy meadows starred with buds of Spring, 

The perfume of the May, 
The song of birds, and every joyous thing 

That smiled on thy life's day — 
These thou hast greeted, these thy voice did sing, 

And never any pain, 
Nor anguished sigh escaped thy patient heart, 

But thou didst smile again, 
As though in gladness thy dear soul had part. 
And forms of beauty in a lenghtened train 



Hn ^einortam. 



Brightened thy vision, lingered, nor in vain 
Held thy thought captive, for the vision grew 
In thy desire, and behold ! anew 
Were wrought in stone the miracles of old ; 
And wood insensate, carven in quaint mould, 
As moved thy loving fancy, showed in flower. 
Or leaf, or sacred symbol, thy meek power. 



Rest well, beloved, rest well ! 
A shifting dream seemeth our life, nor worth 

The bitter pain of living. 
No, nor worth the joy that endeth still in bitter 
tears ; 

Till in a life like thine 
Speaketh the Love Divine, 
The wisdom that unto our grief gives birth, 
And loveth still while giving. 



•ffn /iRcmoriam* 



Ah, rest well ! 
And all our many hopes, and all our fears 
Rest with thee, and the blessing of repose, 

Until our life doth close, 
Calm our crushed hearts, till in the deepened blue 

Of heaven's day, 

The cloud-mists roll away 
From round our troubled souls and with one voice, 

Believing, we rejoice. 

Helen Grace Smith. 




^ablc of Contcnte. 



Thalassa, 1889, Spring, .... 

The Merry May, July 4th, 18S9, . 

The Lion, September 13th, 1SS9, 

The Lances of Lynwood, December 24th, li 

To My Friends, February 22d, 1890, 

Marie BashkirtsefF, March 5th, 1890, 

The Tranquillity of Love, March 17th, 1890, 

On a Picture by Leys, April 26th, 1890, 

To , May 5th, 1890, 

St. Sebastian, 1889, 

The Annunciation, 1889, . 

On My Mother's Portrait, June 9th, 

Annisquam, October 12th, 1890, 

The Night-Blooming Cereus, March 

E. D. S., April, 1891, 

To Hilda, June 15th, 1891, . 

Sarita, December 19th, 1891, 

Something about Fairies, June, 1892, . 

St. Valentine's Day, February 14th, 1892, 

E. D. S., February i8th, 1892, . 

Egeria, September, 1892, 

The Emperor in Exile, 1892, 



1890, 
1891, 



PAGE 
9 

17 
18 

19 
20 
21 
22 
23 
24 
25 
29 
32 
36 
38 
41 
44 
45 
47 
48 

49 

58 



"A World of Signs and Types." 

The Dream of Gerontius. 

DOST hear thy praise, O Sea ? My love is 
singing 
A tender paean to the irised day, 

While orient clouds are fleeting 
And fresh'ning winds are greeting 
The laughing waves that threaten in their play. 



At home with thee, no cruel care is quelling 
The triumph of her mind's commanding power 
In fancj^'s crystal springs 
She views more wondrous things 
Than mermaids fashion for a fairy's dower. 

9 



^balassa. 



Like thine at dawn, her gentle face is shining ; 
Like thine serene, her deepest life is still ; 

And in her heart divine, 

A virtue doth refine 
The erring thoughts that break against her will. 

Her will is like thy gulf-stream, proudly sweeping 
In sapphire majesty from tropic calms. 

While float upon its breast, 

To deck the osprey's nest 
On Arctic cliffs, the broken fronds of palms. 



Be dumb, thou sea ! Be hushed the fretful splashing 
And murmur of thy meditating waves ! 

Thy siren song no more 

Prolong from shore to shore 
^"bove the silence of thy sailors' graves ! 



1 



^balaaea. 



In vain thy jeweled spray their fate is weeping 
In vain the deep is sobbing dark and cold, 

For still at love's beguiling, 

We dare the fatal smiling 
Of shallows shifting over sands of gold. 



Yet clear or dim, thy types are more than seeming, 
When speaks their spirit to a willing mind, 
From lower love redeeming 
To heaven's ramparts gleaming, 
The wayward sympathies of human kind. 



Neath pallid light profounder depths are surging, 
While leagues of trooping seas are lashed to foam, 

And where the sunbeams cross 

A snowy albatross 
Is wCvStward winging to her glowing home. 



^balassa. 



So flies the soul, on Hope's wide pinions floating, 
To that more distant home where dwells the Light, 
Where angels softlj^ sweeping 
In stately watch are keeping 
The starry portals of God's palace bright. 



Zht f^tny flDa^* 



"Non sine pulvere palma." 

ONCE more, my bright and love-beguiling 
May. 
Once more I'll sing ; 
And lest a sonnet should my love betray, 
And wreathe my foolish hopes with rose and bay, 
I'll softly ring 



A wild and tender lyric that shall swell 

In silver sound. 
And wake the soul to weeping, like the bell 
The thrush doth ring at morning's gate to tell 

Her love profound. 



^be ^crri2 /IRaij» 



With fairy grace, thy soft caressing hand 

Invoked a dream, 
That held in thrall upon thy charmed strand, 
Thy beauty's slave — the poet of thy land 

And laughing .stream. 



As poets will, with magic spells possessed, 

He dreamed of love. 
And saw his bride transfigured as the West 
When sinks the sultan sun by clouds caressed. 

Or like a dove 



That bathes her snowy breast in some sweet spring 

Where lilies, fair 
As thoughts that angels unto children bring, 
Serenely float, and spicy perfumes fling 

Through all the air. 



^be Ferris ^aij. 



And like this water-lily lake so cold, 

His spirit calm, 
From mystic depths of sorrow, bade unfold 
Enraptured blooms of hope with hearts of gold 

To mock the palm 



That waves in crested pride o'er Shinar's plain, 

And meekly lay 
Where Israel, exultant, hailed amain 
The Type divine of triumph born of pain 

Along His way. 

But now the West is fading into night. 

My merry May ! 
And now no more is blessed thy poet's sight ; 
His hope hath closed her lily blossoms white. 

And thy sweet day. 



^be /Iftcrrg /lftas» 



Thou month of light! thy rainbow-splendor gleams 

No more, no more ; 
The subtle spell of Summer swathes in dreams, 
And lulls the soul to rest by placid streams, 

While on the shore 



Of beauty's sea, my old ambitions wait 

To lead me on 
To prouder heights than reaches love's estate, 
To heights where shines afar the cross of fate, 

Where truth is won. 



ALTON paced, one calm, refulgent morn, 
A green oasis spread at Himla's feet, 
When, in his cushioned foot, a cruel thorn 
Did sharply pass, and lo ! not pain, but fleet 
And strange pulsations met in tumult sweet, 
As where a river's turbid tide forlorn 
The ocean's salty sprays triumphant greet. 
Then common living filled his soul with scorn. 
For love had charmed his heart, and rested near 
In passion flowers garlanding his lair, 
While round him flew the bulbul, singing clear 
The saddest song that thrills the woodlands fair. 
Thus lovers, wounded sore, who restless pace 
In search of peace, find only beauty's grace. 
17 



IKIlritten in tbe ''Xancee of 
XljnwooD/' 

Given to , Christmas, 1889. 

I'VE sought the masters' pages for a motto, 
Some dainty thing to fit a gentle mind, 
Some faiiy tale of Dian's charmed grotto, 
Where lurk the perfumes of the Summer wind ; 

But all in vain, — such beauty's soft adorning 
Shines in the light of childhood's thought alone, 
When all its songs of love on Christmas morning 
Burst into rapture 'round the Christ- Child's throne. 

So pray accept, unhonored by the Muses' 
Serenely balanced strophes high and grand. 
This little book, whose loving light transfuses 
The storied splendors of a hero land. 
18 



^0 m^ jfrienb0. 

WHEN Enoch found companionship with 
God, 
He walked alone, nor other friendship sought, 
And life's relentless task sublimely wrought, 
And blessed with beauty all the ways he trod. 
This mighty saint, withdrawn to God's embrace. 
Examples how He loves the souls of men ; 
But how shall we, who live in common ken. 
His Presence find, who veils His awful Face ? 
This answer only echoes from the shore 
Where love eternal sings in mystic light : 
God gives us friends when we His love implore, 
And in their love reveals His blessed sight ; 
And as we love them ever more and more. 
We live in beaut}^, work with Enoch's might. 
19 



THE quencliless altar of thy burning mind 
Consumed thy life's sad sacrifice to art, 
The poet throbbings of a maiden heart 
Condemned, betrayed, by power's purpose blind. 
Like Saturn, power kills the meeker kind 
Of virtues, born to dim its sombre fame, 
And bind its pride of strength, in duty's name. 
To shelter love from envy's bitter wind ; 
But fate reserved, we meekly hope, for thee. 
Thou Tartar Queen, whom death could not subdue, 
At last a peaceful rest by love's fair sea. 
That ebbs and flows 'neath God's eternal view. 
When, like a bird storm-borne from off the lea, 
Above its waves thy soul enraptured flew. 



^be ^rranciuillit^ of %ovc. 

WHEN zenith high the blessed sun 
Midway his course hath run, 
The dial shows no shadow on its plate ; 
The world's ablaze, and throbs with even flow 
Of balanced pulsings, while the tranquil glow 
Seems conscious of a calm suspending fate. 
A perfect love thus shines serene, 

When blushing all unseen, 
A constant Summer crowns the faithful soul ; 
The patient heart then gleaneth hope, like Ruth, 
And standing shadowless 'neath heaven's truth 
The restless mind is calm in love's control. 



®n a picture b^ Xeije* 

(In the Metropolitan Museum.) 

SWKBT oracle of fate, what thought is thine ? 
Art doubtful still, while fly before thy gaze, 
I/ike ashen gulls through misty ocean's maze, 
Pale phantom fears, that mock love's hope divine. 
O, Priestess of my heart, attend thy shrine ! 
The fortune birds of love are all at rest 
In thine own soul, where noblest passions nest 
And bid thee yield thy sovereign will to mine. 
I shall not swear thee truth, nor even pray ; 
I feel no anguished fear, no doubt, in sooth ; 
But now a growing calm, a will to stay. 
For thou art true, and I shall win by truth 
Thy royal heart, that would th}'- lover slay, 
If cruel scorn could mate with gentlest ruth. 

22 



^0 



WHERE Athens' proud redoubt surveys 
the sea 
Whose opal waves caress their pirate isles, 
Mount Ida's golden crown is mocking me 
Through fleecy clouds that veil her sunny smiles. 
For she is like my trustless friend, whose wiles 
Are torment dearer than Hymettus' sweets. 
And oft beguile me forth through dark defiles. 
Like love's false beacons set to wreck hope's 

fleets. 
Yet still hope's fleets are gliding softly on, 
By fate allured acrOvSS the starlit main, 
And stays my purpose bright as Arctic sun, 
To win a friend whose taunts are not in vain — 
Whose trenchant wit cuts wounds that bleed in 

rhyme — 
To tell her worth and make it live through time. 



Saint Sebaetian^ 

IN thee doth shine the vision of life's end, 
In kinder lights than martyr-bleeding paints, 
Of fears and pangs 'neath which the spirit faints ; 
For death was thy long-sought and wished-for 

friend. 
What gift had life thy hope could not transcend, 
When every peerless gift in life's command — 
And life to thee gave gifts with open hand — 
In thy supreme and holy love did blend ? 
A weary heart can welcome death's release, 
Because it stills the wish for gifts denied ; 
A coward heart can beg life's strife to cease ; 
And humbled hearts can die from pain of pride ; 
But all thy wounds, with arrows opened wide. 
Teach that God's love brings death as perfect 

peace. 



^be annunciation^ 

The Prologue. 

O Light Eternal ! bless Thy fairest land ! 
Thy chosen land of artists and of saints, 
Around whose hills hath thrown Thy loving hand 
A brighter nimbus than her sunset paints. 



From Thee must come the tribute that I seek 
To lay in homage at Thy Virgin's shrine, 
As Fiesole's painter, pure and meek. 
Was blessed by Thee and wrought with might 
divine. 



^be Bnnunclatlon, 



In stately solitude his thought withdrew 
To ponder on Thy love and learn Thy will ; 
For love in him was power, and he knew 
How strength and wisdom should Thy law fulfil, 



Then, gleaming like the zenith-reigning sun, 
Where flashes dear Italia' s tideless sea, 
The vision came of our redemption won, 
The promise kept of Thy divine decree. 



The Poem. 

The dawn arose, more radiantly grand 
Than at God's first command. 

Where Juda smiles with Jordan to the sea. 
And every saintly power 
Acclaimed the destined hour 

When Jesus came on earth to make men free. 
26 



^be Bnnunciation. 



They brought no glittering gift of gold and gems, 

Nor burnished diadems ; 
But all men's goodly deeds since Adam's wrong 

God's angels held on high, 

And tender as the sky, 
His mercy shone resplendent from the throng. 



The host came trooping from the flaming East, 

To greet the bridal feast. 
And Gabriel his wondrous message bare, 

Where sate in simple state, 

Unwist of sacred fate. 
The temple's roj^al handmaid, — Mary fair. 



Her maiden will unto the Will Divine 
She hastens to incline : 



vTbe Bnnunciation. 



For comes He not in love, when she has heard 
In all her dreams of night, 
At eve and morning's light, 

Isaiah's blessed promise of the Word. 



Incarnate God ! ye angels fold your wings, 
Whilst awful mystery flings 

Her glowing veil o'er Hope's ecstatic face ; 
Supernal incense bring, 
And let each living thing 

Adore the Christ upon His throne of grace. 



fil>^ flDotbet's iportrait. 

THE tempests that assail a life of duty 
Are but as dark to all prevailing light ; 
A dead negation to the truth of beauty, 

Whose essence lives beyond the conscious sight. 



The sorrows that afflict the simple loving 
Of her whose love has often seemed in vain, 

Are but the proofs that life is ever moving, 
That love were senseless could it feel no pain. 



Yet not in fate, but love's providing, trusting, 
The soul that's imaged here has ever stood 

With steadfast faith and clearest reason thrusting 
Beyond the dark the doubts that mock at good. 

29 



Ifk^ /iftotber's iportrait. 



Too self-forgetful to repine at labor, 

Whose cruel trials only made her mild ; 

Too self-forgetful for distrust to save her 
From sharing all the anguish of her child. 



Her dignity is high and self-respecting, 
Alluring by its strength of simple calm 

A grace whose purity is still rejecting 
Ivife's velvet roses for the victor's palm. 

But love is victor ; and the breath of morning 
Seems born triumphant from the tranquil West ; 

While past and present merge in love's adorning, 
That guides the traveller to an endless rest. 

Her task is done, her gentle hands are folded, 
And yet are living as the artist's own, 
30 



/IBv> /lRotbec'6 ipcrtrait. 



Wliose subtle sympathy has softly moulded 
A beauty whence all bitterness has flown. 



That earthly life prepares us for another, 

Transcending this as day transcends the night, 

Her children know, because their faithful mother 
Has lived less here than far beyond our sight. 

Her spirit, framed for life, but lives in dying. 
And made for peace, but finds it far from here, 

In quiets of the heart forever sighing 
For such a love as knows no human fear. 



In such a life the rivers seek the ocean. 
In such a peace the ocean whelms each zone ; 

Such love upholds the universe in motion. 
Which God has made His everlastings throne. 



ABOVE the bay, their vesture fair undone, 
Lie sand-hills, snowy white, 
Illumed with vermeil light, 
Like proud Niobe's bosoms in the sun, 
And murmuring along the quiet main, 
Whose purling hollows still their plaintive strain 
The seas retell their stories one by one. 



The sweetest tale this pensive ocean tells, 
Is told in quiet weather. 
When singing all together, 
32 



Bnnii3auam» 



The winds and waves and music-throated shells 
Praise her who wandered by the wreck-strewn 

shore, 
And sailed the bay's translucent waters o'er, 
A maid, who heard no sound of song or bells. 



Nor praise, nor blame awakes her sense from sleep 
That dreams of silent song. 
As cloud-forms float along, 

In melody of motion through the deep. 

Reflecting irised music in its flow, 

When, o'er his harp of light, strung soft and low, 

Apollo's hands harmoniously sweep. 



If ocean hides within Charybdis' whirl 
Some iridescent stone 
Not e'en to mermaids known, 

33 



Bnnisquam. 



A mystic opal or a virgin pearl 
Unravished by the light its splendors mourn ; 
This gem were like her soundless sense unborn , 
The prisoned treasure of this gentle girl. 



The light that dances on the whirlpool's crest 
By love's unconscious ken, 
(For sunlight loves, like men,) 
This gem is seeking in a vain unrest, 
And so the loving breezes, far and near, 
^olian hymns in her inviolate ear 
Are ringing, ringing, in a useless quest. 



Like light, the soul is yearning o'er the sea, 
And whirlpool caves concealed. 
Whose life-tides never yield 

34 



Bnniequam, 



That one transcendent gem of Fate's decree ; 
And like the winds that wander sweet and wild, 
Their hymns unheard by this unconscious child, 
Hope sings in vain her ceaseless jubilee. 



For Nature blends, by alchemy unknown, 

The amaranthine sheen 

Of destiny unseen 
And gems that glow in sight of God alone. 
With whom Eternity awaits the birth 
Of beauties prisoned within time and earth, 
Whose life shall make the glorj^ of His throne. 



O'KR desert wastes that mock the traveller's 
fate, 
Where death seems regnant, life an idle jest, 
dn rugged cliffs thrown wild, 
Of trackless vales the child. 
The hardy cactus lifts its careless crest. 



When night upon these fields her blessing sheds, 
And ocean's breeze from stormy wandering dies, 

Her last caressing breath 

Is come to kiss in death 
A bloom that is too precious for day skies. 
36 



Cbe 1Ri0bt*:©loomina Cercus. 



No sun has pierced its pure, ecstatic depths ; 
Its chalice trembles with the night's cold tears 

The moon , more gently bright, 

Is pouring veiled light 
On this pulsating wonder-work of years. 



A saintly life is like this modest plant, 
In garish day a thing of little worth. 
Until the soul in prayer 
Exhales its perfume rare, 
A secret grace invoking on the earth. 



37 



l£. 3). S- 

" In vitam seternam transferatur." 

^ 'T^IS truly meet 

I A song her shade should greet, 
When now her crescent moon 
Of new delights in heaven's court begins, 
And shall not end so soon 
As fails the flight a wayward planet wins, 
When (as she spent her joyous marriage-days) 
This star strays out above. 
Enraptured on its destined orbit's ways, 
To perish in an ecstasy of love ; 
And not so vacant is the grieving void 
As our dark souls since her dear life's destroyed. 
38 



le. s)» s. 



The winds that bring 

The breath of life to Spring 

Are not so bravely kind 

As her great love, her calm and sovereign mind. 

From Flora's summer sea 

A purple life-tide glides towards the North, 

And from her heart, a current, deep and free, 

Of charity flowed forth. 

In more impassioned haste than that wide stream 

That clasps the ocean in its warm embrace ; 

For life was narrow in her love's esteem, 

And time too little for her spirit's grace. 

Her child unborn, 

Our shattered hopes and years. 

Our anguished love and unrequited tears, 

And all we mourn, 

She carried to her God, 

39 



B. ©» S. 



And now, like Moses' withered rod, 

Shall grief bear blossoms in our spirits' need. 

No arid care, no irresponsive deed 

Can quell her memory that, like her love, 

Makes better life and hope of better dying. 

As angels sent the healing pool to move, 

Her spirit comes with eager fleetness flying, 

To stir our souls to holiness and win 

A constant triumph over pain and sin. 



HEAVEN is made 
Of blue and gold 
In white arrayed, 

Cloud fold on flowing fold. 



So Hilda fair 

Is like the skies, 
With golden hair 

And gleaming sapphire eyes. 



Her face is bright 
And very proud, 



^0 IbllDa. 



Sun-kissed and white, 

Like morning's brow of cloud. 



And as the dome 

Of heaven above 
Must be the home 

Of outcast, wandering love. 

That homesick elf 

To her must fly 
To lodge himself 

As in his natural sky. 

And while he sleeps, 
He's safe and warm ; 

He wakes, she weeps, 

And brews a mortal storm. 
42 



Zo IbilDa. 



And so I've shown 

My Hilda's made 
Of heaven, or flown 

From some celestial shade. 



Sarlta* 

MAY heaven be this — whence we are so exiled 
Eternities of loving may we spend 
In beauty's being ; for the throne shall lend 
To all a power musical and wild. 
Our souls, no more by phantasies beguiled, 
Shall find in truth a kind, familiar friend ; 
With thought Divine shall finite thinking blend 
As sacred wisdom in a merry child. 
If this be true, as I have writ above, 
The story's told Sarita, not to me. 
What heaven is; and sovereign, awful love, 
Like light's transparent essence, none may see, 
Save when their powers in reflection move 
On clouds, and in her childhood's mystery. 



Sometbing about jfmice. 

THE fairies know most wondrous things ; 
'Tis fairy wisdom flings 
Love's blossoms blue in childhood's book of song, 
And when the children, fairies' friends, are singing, 
All fairyland with melody is ringing, 
Where woodland sprites and elfin people throng. 



'Round all the world these fairy legions scurry 

In everlasting hurry ; 
For Queen Titania every ouphe compels, 
Of every child he knows whose life is gladness 
Or wilfulness, or naughtiness, or sadness. 
To keep a count in polished cowry shells. 

45 



5ometbinc5 about Jfairics. 



The reason is that fairy life is pure ; 

And only can endure 
While children's lives are innocent and kind ; 
For every time a child is rudely crying, 
His playmate elf is sent through heaven flying, 
To live in some lone star, a prisoner confined. 



And so, you see, to keep the elves from straying 

To Hesperus, or maying 
In Jupiter, or Venus, or in Mars, 
Let no deceit or cruel impulse move 
Your gentle hearts, but ever dwell in love 
And truth as pure as are the sinless stars. 



46 



a Sonnet for St* IDalentine's Da^* 

LIKE the wild coast along the Baltic Sea, 
The waste, flat spaces of our lives lie dead, 
As though all sense of poetry were fled, 
And thoughts of sorrow could alone be free. 
And then, by fate's inscrutable decree, 
A silent message to the waves is sped ; 
They drown the main, and in the sunset red 
For leagues the land a vermeil shield will be. 
And so the heart, o'er all life's dreary shore, 
Will pour at last its deep resistless flood ; 
Illumed by truth, like heaven's ruby floor, 
It brings new being in its tide of blood. 
And where this radiant surge of love hath rolled, 
No more shall life lie blossomless and cold. 

47 



Ifn flDemor^ of E. 2)* S. 

" In vitam seteniam transferatur." 

WHERE battle led the bleeding feet of 
France, 
Victorious poppies o'er the fields are spread ; 
For earth, to veil the mystery of her dead. 
Emblazons life's unconquerable advance. 
To herald law that knows no vain mischance, 
Her rose is proudly stained a martyr red. 
The cognizance of souls in whom is bred 
Nobility no glory can enhance. 
The earth rejoices where such souls have trod ; 
To live they die, and being dead defend 
I^ike flaming brands the viewless throne of God, 
And mid their hosts new rays of radiance blend, 
Where stands, transfigured 'neath her golden crest, 
I/Ove's martyred bride, — love's burden on her 
breast. 

48 



THE ocean is pursuing 
Dim melodies, and wooing, 
Through all her jeweled caves, 
His bride of earth, in smoothly pleading waves, 
And in his voice, she hears 
A song that still defies 

Oblivion's death and waste of phantom years. 
The fable of Egeria the wise. 
Priestess at Nature's amaranthine shrine, 
Priestess and prophetess of love divine. 



The wistful morn. 

With sullen trumpetings from ocean's horn, 

49 



JEseria* 



With reedy songs begun, 

Then broken by the brisker wind of day, 

Salutes the ascending sun, 

And thou, O queen, 

Kgeria serene. 

Delay, 

Delay no more but bid Aurora sing 

The triumph of thy King. 

Then list 

The songs the yellow marshes sing, 
The piping curlew's whirring wing, 
The muffled voices of the morning mist, 
And list the waves their deeper mystery tell ; 
Attend Aurora's story 
Of love's unconscious glory. 
When on Egeria's lips lay Eros' spell ; 
Hear Echo still repeat 
Her passion whispers sweet ; 
50 



Bgeria, 



Hear Numa pour his eloquence of soul, 
As ocean currents roll, 
Or Tiber's fountains, falling 
From Tuscan hills and calling 

In foaming laughter to the I^atian plain, 
Then majestically flowing 
And graciously bestowing 

Their golden tribute on the murmuring main. 

" I/ike light's transparent essence 

Is thy glorifying presence, 
More subtle than the perfume of the seas, 

Yet, love ! we meet to dream, 

Beside this gliding stream, 
A life elusive as Kurydice's, 

When Orpheus fondly yearning. 

Forgetful, backward turning, 

Beheld her weeping shade 
51 



j6Qeria< 



In anguished splendor fade, 

Then o'er his lyre, 

In tones of fire, 

His flame of sorrow, gleaming 

And melodiously streaming, 
Like morning light the orient coasts along. 

Above the verge 

Of Tartarus' surge 
Consumed his soul in agony of song. 



"Behold 
The airy gold 
And purple banners of the day unfold, 

When morning flings 
Her wreaths of cloud from Phoebus' mountain 
portal : 
Behold his open wings 
Reveal the splendors of his face, immortal : 
52 



Baerla, 



Then, see him rise 

Amidst the trembling skies, 

And o'er the crested ocean, 

In majesty of motion, 

Approach the western wall, 
Where evening spreads her star-bespangled pall 

But, no good morrow 

Awaits the souls who fled ; 

Mysterious sorrow 
Enshrouds the starless silence of the dead. 

And night, not light, must be 
The voiceless image of our immortality. 

♦'When thou. 
Reluctantly art yielding, only now 
May love from heaven descend, 
And our enraptured beings blend. 
Then let not death beguile, 

53 



Bgcria, 



With some fond vision of Atlantis' isle, 

Thy spirit far from me 

Across the whispering sea, 

Where heaven's misty rim 
Is resting on the ocean's crimson brim ; 

For all around 

lyife's iridescent bound 
Is chaos, waiting for the souls of men, 
A flower-garlanded and treacherous fen, 
Whose stagnant waters mirror all the sky, 
While in their depths no heaven-beauties lie. 

And so 

As time's and tidal currents flow. 
The wide besieging sea 
Like Numa, passion driven, calls 
A ceaseless challenge to the shining walls 
Of Latium's marble lea ; 

54 



Bflcria. 



And ever more, 

Along the roaring shore, 

From dreamy woods and misty skies 
Egeria's magic song of love replies : 

"My King, 
So long as Hesperus' deathless zephyrs give 

Their perfume to the spring, 
So long thy soul immortally shall live, 
In that pervading love-life of the world, 

Amidst whose burning zone 

And undiscovered throne 
To herald God the frightened stars are hurled. 

" Listen 
To the inward echo of the sounding soul, 
Whose lucent passions glisten, 
And melodiously roll 
Against thy silent will, 

55 



iSgeria. 



Sublime and still, 
An alabaster cliff that shines above 
And yet sustains thy surging sea of love. 

And calm thine idle fears, 

That souls are only radiant tears ; 

For luminous in thine 
Is love, whose life is consciously divine, 
This love, that hath no body death can; keep 
Buried beneath his dark, abhorrent deep. 

" I pray thee 
Love and live : 
Immortal love shall give 
To thee and me 
A semblance of divinity. 
As yonder planet rises in the morn, 
Thy soul is upward borne 
By love that governs space 
55 



Bgeria. 



And foolish time and heaven's viewless grace. 

Have I not hailed 

Futurity unveiled ; 

Have I not seen 
In long night-watches of his life serene, 

lyove bend beneath the rod 

Of death, and then ascend 

And midst the radiance blend 
That veils the vision of the unknown God !" 



Egeria's voice is still, 
O'er ocean, vale and hill, 
Where silence broods expectant as a dove 
Enthralled by heaven's mystery of love. 



57 



Zhc jEmperor in jeyile* 

THE hungry fate 
That bides my parting breath 

Amidst these savage seas, 
The ruthless kings, who wait 

Impatient for my death, 
May be at ease, 
For life to this captivity has paid 
Such precious ransom for a traitor hope, 

As kept in treasurj^ had made 
Exhaustless riches for the prudent scope 
And energy of freedom's honest trade. 
My body's bankrupt, but my glories lie 
Beyond the touch of envious destiny. 

5« 



^be ;i6mperor in BjUe. 



Does justice tnist 
Her retribution unrestrained 
To men who sit on thrones 
So high they cannot hear the people's groans ? 
Is fate so just, 
Is human power so unstained, 
That only goodness is fulfilled 
When tyranny has stilled 
The restless waves of my imprisoned soul, 
Upon whose tides the wrecks of empire roll ? 

I fain would stand 
Beyond the prejudice of foes, 
O'er-topping slander, as a mountain glows, 
Morning and eve, above the shadowed land ; 
But e'en a mountain's height 
Is darkened in the night, 
And, round my cloudy brow, 
The far-off constellations bow 

59 



Zbc Bmperor In Bjlle» 



In mockery of mourning for the sun, 

Proud victory's sun, that shed 
His radiance round my head, 
And whose brave course is run; 
Yet when his light returns once more to France 
My glories burn, my destinies advance. 

Though I must wait 
The strange appointment of a law, that keeps 

In pregnant silence of eternal deeps 
The truth concealed from actors in the state 
And service of the present day. 

Yet I would pay 
My fee of tCvStimony down. 
Lest history hold me debtor to renown. 
Then let the armies of my fancy move 
And by the witness of achievement prove 
My soul's resistance to the bitter blame 
Wherewith mine enemies surround my name. 
60 



WIS 



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